A Second Chance
by alijoe13
Summary: Sam is ready to tear down Heaven and Hell to find Dean. However, a call from someone claiming to have information on him sends their small family down a path Sam would never have imagined possible. As darker and darker facts spark into reality, Sam soon realizes that there's a lot more on his shoulders that just a missing brother.


"Cas!" Leah ran down the dark hallway, panic beginning to rise in her chest. "Castiel, where are you?"

A strong hand clamped down on her shoulder and jerked her backwards, pulling her into a side room. She swung around and found herself face to face with a man she didn't recognize.

The man ripped the duffel off her shoulder and twisted to sling it behind him when a silver blade was suddenly protruding from his neck.

Leah blinked against the flash of light, and after a short howl of agony, the demon dropped.

"I'm here," Cas said, wiping the bloodied angel blade off on his dark jeans.

Leah cursed as she slung her bag over her shoulder again. "You scared me; I thought you'd been caught."

"Not yet." Cas picked up his own bag and strode by her towards another door. "This way, we have to hurry. There are two others somewhere in the building, and I think one of them made a phone call."

She followed without question, drawing a dagger from a sheath at her ankle.

The halls were dark, but neither of them turned on any lights. The wooden floors didn't creak when stepped on, which was a wonder in itself, given the age of the place. Unfortunately, that made it hard to notice anyone creeping up on them, so Leah kept an eye behind them while Cas watched the doors that they passed.

"Did you get the ash?" she hissed as they swerved around a corner.

Cas reached into the pocket of his worn jacket and withdrew something, which he handed back to Leah.

She examined contents of the tiny vial, a grayish dust that only filled its vessel halfway. "This is fairy ash?"

"Did you expect it to sparkle?"

"My god, what did you use, a pixie?"

Cas took the vial back. "A sprite." He leaned close to a door on their right. "Here."

Leah put away her dagger and tried the handle. It stuck. "What if it's not enough?" she asked as she worked the handle.

"It'll have to do," Cas responded.

Thrusting her shoulder against the panel, Leah finally managed to force the door inward, and they rushed through. She immediately shut and bolted it behind them. A musty smell hit her in a wave, and she turned around, wrinkling her nose.

Though it was practically empty now, the area looked like it had functioned as a small shop at one point. Bizarre, given its location. Across the room, Cas was already wrenching open a cabinet that sat behind a long glass case; probably a sales counter. Light from a street lamp outside a nearby window lit the place enough for Leah to see him remove a small bundle of charred twigs and two jars. He smelled each jar before choosing one, then sorted hastily through the other items in the cabinet.

A flood of light from the window attracted their attention, and Leah rushed to it. Four stories below, a van pulled up to the building, and people started piling out. Nobody up to any good had any reason to be out here.

"That's it, Cas. We're out of time!" She whipped around and ran to the glass counter. "We gotta do it here."

They dumped out their backpacks onto the counter and started assembling the materials for the spell.

A minute later, Leah dumped the ground up dust from the blackened twigs into a wooden bowl with the other ingredients just as Cas finished drawing the last sigil on the floor in the center of the room. "I've finished," he said.

"Almost there," Leah answered. She stripped off her corduroy jacket and started rolling up her shirt sleeve.

The sound of banging wood echoed through the building.

"They're too close," Cas said as he came back over to the counter. "This changes things. I'm only going to wait five minutes. If this does not work-"

"It will."

Cas huffed. "But if it doesn't, you have to be back before then."

Leah nodded, drawing her dagger. "Five minutes." Gritting her teeth, she quickly sliced her forearm. As blood dripped into the bowl, she spoke. "Of course you realize, if this doesn't work, and I do end up back here-" she glanced at him. "-there won't be much point."

Castiel met her eyes steadily. "We'll come through; one way or another we will. We haven't lost one yet."

Leah set the dagger down and wrapped a rag around her arm, swallowing. "Don't you mean Sam and Dean haven't lost one yet?"

"They'll help."

"Well, one of them will."

Cas didn't answer right away, but took the bowl and shook the ingredients together. "Dean- he will come around."

"He didn't before."

He held the bowl out to her. "We have no other option."

Leah reached out and put her hands over top his for a long moment. Then she took the bowl completely and hurried to the middle of the room. Dipping her fingers into the thick paste, she started adding the accents to Cas' sigils. Then she set the bowl in front of her.

"Five minutes, Leah," Cas reminded her.

She nodded and struck a match. The flame caught, and Leah found herself casting one last look at Cas. "Cas, if I don't make it back-"

"Leah, go!"

"If I don't," she persisted. "You have to get to Virginia. I promised Sam!"

Cas sighed. Then nodded. "Good luck, my friend."

"See you in five minutes." And she dropped the match.

* * *

><p>Sam closed his laptop and rubbed his face. He was exhausted, but knew he couldn't stay here any longer. The rest of his things were already in the car.<p>

The motel room just outside Crown Point, Indiana wasn't much, but it was better than the back seat of the Impala, which was the only thing he had to look forward to for the next 700 odd miles. He wasn't completely sure it wasn't better than the bunker too. That was the last place he wanted to be right now.

It'd been three months since Dean had disappeared out of his bedroom in the bunker, and Sam had made no real ground to speak of towards finding him. The only lead he'd had was Crowley, who had since disappeared as well. He wouldn't respond to a phone call or a summons. That in and of itself spoke of his involvement. Crowley had been clinging to the brothers like a leech for the last year and a half, and suddenly he was nowhere to be seen? It was all just a little too coincidental for Sam to look past, even if he wanted to.

_Luckily for him, I don't,_ Sam thought caustically.

On that front, Sam had been making some lovely new friends. For the first few weeks of his search, most of them had been chatty enough. Despite the fear they had of Crowley, it didn't usually take long to break a demon's loyalty; or at least make them aware of the more immediate threat.

Something happened after the first month, though, and demons started clamming up. Bits of information had leaked through, but not enough to work with. It forced Sam to keep upping the ante.

Sam slid his laptop into its case. After giving the room another once over, he grabbed his jacket and flipped out the light before exiting. He'd taken a back room, so the motel office was up around the corner. He decided to just walk to it.

A week ago, he'd talked to an older hunter named Jay who thought he had a tail on a demon that Sam had been looking for. All accounts Sam'd gathered said this demon could give him information on where Crowley might be. Sam had driven 9 hours to Illinois before Jay had bailed on the meeting.

"It's nothing personal, Sam," Jay had said when he called. "It's just… you got rumors circling you, boy. You're caught up in stuff I don't want any part of. I think it best I steer clear for now."

Before he hung up, Jay did point Sam towards Crown Point, so despite his frustration, Sam didn't pursue the hunter. He'd been playing his activities close to the chest ever since Dean's disappearance, but the supernatural world was small. Apparently, he hadn't gone as unnoticed as he thought, and things were starting to catch up with him.

Sam hitched his laptop bag higher onto his good shoulder to open the office door. His right shoulder was still in a sling from a fight a few weeks ago. That encounter was part of the reason he was itching to leave now; he wasn't ready to address the problem, so best to keep on the move for now. He would face consequences when he had Dean back.

Like at most of the places as skeevy as this one, the clerk didn't ask any questions as Sam checked out. He took the money Sam slapped down for his four night stay and wished him good luck on his travels.

Four nights. Four nights and three days Sam had killed in this stupid town. That was all he'd killed, though, because there wasn't a single demon here. The only signs he could scrounge up were a few temperature fluctuations, but from what he could tell, those stopped about the time he got to town. Another dead end. He was so tired of dead ends.

Cas had been almost as unreachable as Crowley, though Sam hadn't been as persistent on that front. He'd gotten a call from Cas shortly after Dean's death, to confirm it. How Cas had known, Sam didn't know, but he had. Most of the call was spent in silence, but it was... comforting. For the first time since Bobby had died, Sam had someone there that honestly shared his sorrow. Someone to grieve with.

That only lasted as long as the second phone call a few hours later, informing Sam that Metatron was locked up in Heaven's prison. Sam replayed that conversation in his head as he left the motel's front office...

"He's still alive?" Sam fumed.

"Yes." Cas's voice sounded hollow over the phone, but his tone was firm. "If we want his followers to join us in repairing heaven, they have to see that I'm different from him."

"I can't believe you're worried about your _reputation_ right now!" Sam retorted, his face growing hot.

"It's not my reputation, Sam; it's the entire future of heaven, and earth hangs in that balance. Many of Metatron's followers have defaulted, but not all of them. If I want to prevent another faction from rising up to take command, I cannot give them a reason to do so. I cannot just kill my enemies."

Sam nearly threw the phone across the room. "He's not just your enemy, Cas! He's mine! He killed Dean! If you can't-"

"You don't have to remind me of what he's done, Sam!" Cas cut in angrily. "_I know._ Trust me when I say I want him dead too! But I have to think of the repercussions of that act."

"I don't." Sam clenched and relaxed his jaw. "If you can't kill him, then clear me a way into heaven and I'll do it myself. Then he'll be dead and you won't be to blame."

Cas sighed, the air echoing static into Sam's ear. "You can't do that either, Sam. You are known to be my friend. If you are seen killing Metatron, it could still spark another war, or at least a lack of unity amongst the angels. That's something we cannot afford if we are to have any chance of rebuilding heaven."

Sam gripped the phone so tightly that it creaked in protest. He spoke in a tight voice. "I don't...care, Cas. I don't care about Heaven. I don't care about the angels." His voice slowly rose. "I don't care about demons, or Hell, or _anything_. All I care about is that my brother is _dead_ because of _your _fight, and his killer is sitting is Heaven's jail under _your guard!_" He was yelling by the end, and finally did throw the phone into the wall next to him, effectively ending the conversation.

That was before he discovered Dean's body was missing.

Now everybody was ignoring his calls.

Now Sam prayed to Cas every couple of weeks to try and spark a conversation. The first time, he apologized for reacting the way he did to the Metatron news. He knew it was Cas' decision to do what he wanted with him. That wasn't to say that Sam wouldn't take Metatron out if given the chance, but he didn't hold it against Cas.

If any of it made any difference to him, Cas didn't make it known. Sam still had had no word from him. He chalked it up to Cas's way of dealing with losing Dean.

Sam got into the grey four-door he'd picked up back in Iowa. He hated stealing cars; it was such a hassle to have to trade them every so often. He needed to ditch this one before he got too far along, but it could wait until he got out of Indiana.

The missing Impala was one of the most unnerving things about Dean being MIA. He could think of a number of reasons why something would take Dean's body: as proof of death, Leviathan, to keep Sam from bringing him back. And that didn't even include what someone might want with a body possessing the Mark of Cain.

But, ignoring the unlikelihood of something being able to break into the bunker, if someone had just wanted his body, why take the car? That line of thinking spun off in to a half dozen directions that included possibilities Sam didn't want to consider.

So he just kept searching. And he wouldn't stop. Sooner or later, he would catch a break.

* * *

><p><strong>Confused? That's okay; everything will make sense by the end! Stick around to find out how things are fairing on Dean's side. <strong>

**Questions, comments, concerns, and critiques? Don't forget to review. Thanks for reading!**


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